


10 Things I Hate About Me

by prettysicknasty



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 10 Things, Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, No Romance, Not A Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, at least i don't think there will be romance?, find out next week on dragon ball z, vent fic, where am i going with this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-04-25 16:32:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14382603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettysicknasty/pseuds/prettysicknasty
Summary: Lance likes other people. He doesn't like himself.





	1. Drifter

Lance watched a movie once back on Earth, called 10 Things I Hate About You. It was a teenage romcom, he watched it with his older sisters who... probably don't remember the movie now. To be quite honest, Lance doesn't remember much about the movie either, except that he thought Heath Ledger was really handsome in it. The title stuck with him though.

It's hard to think of things he hates about others. Lance was raised to always see the good in people, to stay optimistic about someone even with their faults. 

Things he hates about himself however... That list could go on.

While sitting here in the ship's kitchen, the Voltron crew sitting around and eating a healthy and nutritious food goo breakfast before training, one of the many things he hates about himself comes to the forefront of his mind. 

Lance is alone. 

He doesn't fit in with anyone, even back on Earth. Especially not here in space.

He's the friend that you don't invite to go get ice cream. The one that drifts from friend to friend, because no one ever wants him around for long. He just doesn't fit, he's a piece that doesn't belong to the puzzle everyone else does. Hunk only hung out with him because they were on the same team in the Garrison, and it's the same here in space. If he weren't a part of Voltron, he would have no use to the team. Lance doubts any of the others even consider him their friend.

Sitting, surrounded by the other paladins as they eat breakfast tiredly, he can't help but notice how absent he feels. Like his soul isn't in his body, he's detached from the people around him.

Distantly, his hand spoons food goo into his mouth, and his tongue pushes it back to swallow. Lance isn't telling himself to do these actions, he can't feel himself do them.

A memory comes to mind, of a middle school health class back on Earth. They were in the mental illness unit, and no one really bothered to listen. Depression means sad, Schizophrenia is the crazy people, the extent of their teachings were hardly valid, so even if one payed attention, it would be for incorrect facts from a lab somewhere. Lance does remember one girl in the class who was angry during that unit. She was silent as the teacher spouted preprogrammed bullshit to the students, but her glare was like a physical cloud permeating across the room, choking the teacher as he tried to say more, his eyes watering as the girl's dark cloud shut him up.

One day she snapped. They were discussing symptoms, and the teacher said that dissociation was like daydreaming. She stood up, eyes flashing and hair bouncing in her pigtails, and she took the teachers job to educate the class.

"Dissociation is _not_ just 'daydreaming.' It's a serious symptom of so many mental disorders! It's a detachment from reality, and it's a defense mechanism that should be taken seriously instead of thrown away as simply ' _daydreaming_.' Did you even try to read up on what you're misinforming us?"

What she said didn't matter to Lance back then, he was just shocked that she stood up to a teacher the way that she did. He cheered her on with the rest of the class, but didn't really care for what she said until now.

He feels detached from reality. 

Lance watches as his body gets up and follows his team to the training deck. He can feel his mouth moving, saying something in response to Keith's comment on his own skill. Hopefully his teammates don't see him floating slightly to the left of his body, intermixed like a 3D movie without 3D glasses. A vague feeling of needing to return to the moment drifts through his mind, but like all the other thoughts he has at the moment, it just joins the windy tunnel in his head.

The team walks into the training deck and starts off easy, but Lance can feel his body still uncooperative, and knows he really does need to get back into consciousness. 

For a second, he watches as his teammates get into formation, before panic grips him enough to try and force his mind to return. 

 _No!_ he wants to yell, _Wait! I'm not ready!_

Allura starts the session before he's fully back, and he gets hit with a laser straight through his left shoulder. Lance blacks out before he can see that his team didn't notice at first. They didn't notice he'd gotten hit until he was no longer being useful to them. 

He hates that about himself, how unnoticed he can be until he's not screaming to be noticed anymore.


	2. Sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM
> 
> woops :/ ill add it to the tags, and probably will add more in other chapters.

Waking up by falling out of a pod, Lance realizes another thing he hates about himself.

Lance likes pain. He craves it. He get's pleasure from it.

That blast through his shoulder moved through his veins like a fiery explosion, sending his whole body into a paralyzed state. It felt like pure passion injected into him, so intense he went blind for a second. 

It disgusts him how much he loved it.

When he came out of the pod, the searing heat turned into a dull ache, and Lance hated it. His team battered him with questions when he came out, and while he was finally back to himself enough to answer, he really didn't feel like it.

"Lance, what were you thinking? You could have gotten a much worse injury! What happened there, why weren't you paying attention?" Shiro started the interrogation in the strictly professional way he always does, making sure he keeps an emotional distance while still talking down on Lance like a disappointed father.

"I get that you zone out a lot during meetings, but at least get your head in the game when we train. Someone else could've gotten hurt too." A little harsher in her reprimanding, Pidge glares up at him as he leans on the side of the pod, still weak from the healing process.

Hunk, forever his saving grace, notices the dead look in Lances eyes and comes up from where he had been standing back with Coran to watch.

"Hey, guys, maybe we shouldn't do this right now? He's probably still a little out of it..." Hunk looked awkwardly around the room once all the attention turned to him, but it was all worth it for the small smile Lance gave him. Shiro sighed and looked down, noticing his tense posture for the first time. He uncrossed his arms and nodded.

"Hunk's right. Let's give Lance a little space to recover."

With that permission, Lance took his leave. He wordlessly passed through the paladins, brushing shoulders with a few of them. His teammates stared at him as he floated, unusually quiet, out of the room.

The medical room was quiet for a second before Keith turned to the group.

"Does Lance seem... _off_ to any of you?"

"Oh thank god someone else noticed." Hunk breathed out in a rush as he relaxed into himself. Looking around at the others, he started on with his observations of breakfast just before the training session. "He seemed really out of it. I tried telling him about this hilarious story I heard on the last planet we were on, and it was like he wasn't even listening! He just nodded and laughed but it was a weird laugh like you know when someone laughs and it's weird? It was like that! And I thought, that's not very Lance-like, something must be wrong. But Lance doesn't like talking about his feelings so I didn't say anything, should I have said something? Oh my gosh what if he's-"

"Hunk! Calm down, I'm sure he's just tired or something." Pidge grabbed Hunks shoulders and shook him until he stopped rambling. He stopped but took a second to control his breathing but nodded along with Pidge. That was the logical explanation. Lance hadn't shown any signs of anything else before this, right?

"I'm sure he's fine. When he comes to dinner later, he'll be telling jokes as usual, just watch." Shiro smiles reassuringly. 

No one really believed him.

 

-

 

Lance locked himself in his room, a hunger gnawing at his insides. His heart felt tight in his chest in a way so uncomfortable he just wanted to reach inside and rip out the throbbing red muscle.

Food wouldn't satiate him though, no, what he wanted was something much worse. Something wrong, disgusting, and sick.

With rabid eyes, he looked over to a bedside table, equipped with everything the Alteans needed in each room. He knew from exploring a while ago that there was a first aid kit, communicator, and a laser knife.

Laser knife sounds super cool, it sounds like something that should be in Star Wars or some other space action movie. It sounds like the type of tool used to defeat a monster, but he's not using it for that.

Its burns like a stove when he presses it into his stomach. Unlike a normal knife, is doesn't slice through the soft skin of his belly, it just leaves a large burning scar, bleeding lightly like a scraped knee. It's perfect.

Lance sighs in relief as he presses it onto his skin again, watching as another angry pink welt forms into an imposing scab. They won't bleed like a knife would make him, so he has no fear of tearing it open in battle.

 _Just this once_ , he promises to himself. He only needs it right now, it's just a one time thing. 

Images of what his teammates would say if they saw him taking pleasure in this horrid act of self harm flash over his vision. Shiro's disappointed face. Pidge's look of blatant disgust. Keith's confusion and anger. Hunk... Hunk probably wouldn't even look at him. He hears their shouting in his ears.

Fat tears slipped past his eyelids and fell onto where his hands lay limp on his lap, the laser knife still held in his grip. Speckles of blood surround the two ugly red lines on his torso, easily wiped away with a cloth from the med kit. It's done.

The deep revulsion he feels towards himself is clogging his throat, but he ignores it. He can't help that he likes the pain. 

Lance shakes his head, hiding the evidence of what he'd done. Pulling himself under the blankets on his bed, he curled up into a ball and decided to sleep it off. Watch, he'll wake up, see his team acting like nothing happened, and everything will go back to normal. 

He scrunches his nose at the whispers of how normal was never better, his own voice disputing his positive thinking. 

 _Just go to sleep_.  _Everything will be fine in the morning._


	3. Too Much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jinkies scoob, my h key is weird so i have to press hard for it to process, lmk if any h's aren't there lol. also gonna try to make chapters longer. they weren't initially because this is a vent fic but i should try owo (i didnt realize how many times u have to use the hh key wow) (DIDN"T REALIZE UNTIL I STARTED TYPIN BUT APPARENTLY ALSO MY G KEY WOOOOOPP)

Waking up did not fix anything. Not that he thought everything would magically be perfect in the morning, he'd just unjustifiably hoped it would. 

Lance woke up with a deep ache on his stomach, reminding him of his activities last night. He groaned as he rolled over in bed, dragging the blankets over him in a cocoon as he went. It was so stupid of him to do that, it only causes more problems. Why did he think it was a good idea?

Truly, he hadn't thought it was a good idea, he just wanted the immediate relief. Lance sighed deeply, opening his eyes to the cool blue darkness of the wall in his room, thinking longingly about the feeling that burn gave him. His hands brushed over the raised bumps on his skin and he struggled back the longing. The soreness of the wound made him wince. 

Lance disgusted himself.

How could he get pleasure from something so horrible? It was one thing to enjoy drinking alcohol or doing drugs, those are also bad for you, but it's completely different to like hurting yourself. Already, he's beginning to regret it. Not because he's ashamed, although that is something he's feeling, but because now he's had a _taste_ for it. And he wants to do it again. The sting, how all his muscles clenched and quivered at the pain, it was toxic, but it was also addictive.

A loud knocking suddenly hit his door, and he rolled over in shock. He miscalculated the distance he was from the edge though, and fell right off onto the floor. The wound, still fresh and open, stretched as he hit the ground, and he let out a yelp at the pain.

"Lance? We're eating breakfast together! You better be there, it's bonding time or whatever Coran says. Five dobashes!" Pidge's squeaky voice floated through the air to his body on the floor, as he stared at the ceiling blankly. 

"Aye aye captain." His hoarse voice hopefully got to Pidge beyond the door. He assumes she heard, because he didn't hear any more after that. 

His arm found it's way over his eyes and he breathed deeply for what felt like the fifth time this morning already. He really didn't want to do anything today. He reaaallllyy didn't want to get out of bed, let alone leave his room and interact with the others, but since he was already out of bed he might as well do the rest of what he didn't want to do. 

Forgoing his usual morning routine in favor of being to breakfast on time (and hopefully getting out early too), Lance simply put on his usual clothes and went on his way. He did take his time walking to the dining room, hoping he'd awaken enough to put on a facade by the time he got there.

It was irrational, but even under a shirt and his zipped up jacket, he felt completely exposed. As if the team could take one look at him and immediately see what he'd done. The lines weren't visible, he knew that, but it felt like he was an open book for all the universe to read. He put his hands in his pockets self-consciously as he finally walked through the open doorway to the kitchen.

Most of the others were already here, except for Shiro and Keith, the latter probably thinking that group dining is not worth his time, and the former probably the one to go get him to come anyway. Lance took a seat near the end of the table, beside Pidge and across from Hunk. Pidge was tinkering with something small, it looked like a cute little robot but he couldn't be sure. Allura at the other end of the table was looking through something on a handheld device, probably a schedule or plans or something equally as impressive. Hunk had his arms crossed, head resting on them as he took a nap before the food actually came.

A few minutes of everyone doing there own thing passed, Lance passing the time counting the hairs on his arm, until Shiro came back in, with Keith begrudgingly following behind. They came just in time, as Coran entered with food just after them. 

Lance nudged Hunk awake gently as Coran started dishing out whatever concoction he'd created to everyone. It was fairly quiet, but Lance attributed it to the early time and everyone's general tiredness. It did seem odd though, and Lance could see the glances everyone gave him when they thought he couldn't see. He would've broken the silence by now if he was feeling better, and he was _supposed_ to be feeling better, so he quickly thought of something Lance-like to say.

"Coran, my man! What did you put in the food goo? It tastes even better than usual." Lance said with a plastered-on smile, holding back a wince at how loud his voice seemed in the quiet room. God, his voice was annoying, did he always sound like that? Why did anyone let him talk? 

Luckily, it did the job as Coran puffed his chest out and began explaining the complex process of adding the right amount of spice to not kill everyone in the room. Hunk looked ready to pass out as he looked back at the food goo on his plate with distrust. Shiro and Allura split into a quiet discussion on their end of the table, with Keith awkwardly attempting to listen in. 

Pidge nudged Lance with her elbow, pointing at the argument between Hunk and Coran about proper cooking techniques. Lance felt the pull of his cuts and had to ignore how good it felt.

"One day we should have a cut-throat kitchen style competition between them." She snickered.

Normally he would have wholeheartedly agreed, but Lance really wasn't feeling great today, and he'd rather not have to fake being happy so no one would worry. Unfortunately, not faking it wasn't really an option. Lance forced out a laugh.

"I'd love to see that. The kitchen would be a mess." He cringed at the sound of his own voice this time, he couldn't hold it back. 

_Shut up._

He gave a tight lipped smile to Pidge, hating how he sounded. His squeaky voice echoed in his head even after Pidge moved on to discuss actually filming a food show for Voltron.

_That was stupid. Why'd you say that? Don't speak. Shut up. Stop talking. You're annoying them._

Ah, another thing Lance hated about himself: his voice.

A weird thing to single out, but it's one of the first things anyone notices about him. He's been told many times in his life to shut the hell up. Has been scolded for talking too much. Has said a joke that no one laughed at. He's said the wrong thing at the wrong time more than he can count. 

Usually, he can ignore it, but sometimes, out of the blue, he _can't stand_ speaking aloud. Every word that comes out of his mouth grates his ears and causes more hate to screech to himself from his awful brain. When he gets like that, it's better to simply stay quiet. Lower interactions to simple yes and no's, so that all he'll get is the occasional _"shut up"_ from his head.

Whatever triggered it, the feeling is here now, and Lance can't ignore it just to not worry his team. Hopefully if he just doesn't talk today, but shows up fine and dandy tomorrow, they won't care. 

While the rest of the team babbled on, finally waking up and getting into the swing of things, Lance slowly ate his food so as to make him unavailable for conversation. He hunched in his shoulders, trying to make himself small as possible. 

It felt like ages before everyone actually finished breakfast and Allura told everyone the itinerary for the day. Individual training throughout the day, a call with the Blades of Marmora for updates, and team bonding at the very end of the day. Sounded easy enough. He wouldn't really have to interact with anyone until team bonding and if he can pull himself together by then it won't be a problem.

With that everyone went their own ways, Shiro going with Keith to the training room to get the first run of the equipment. Lance just quietly went back into his room, hoping to get in a warm shower before he has to show up for the Blades call. 

He ended up staying in the steaming hot shower for far too long, just running his fingers over the burns on his stomach and letting water fall over his shoulders. Eventually though he got out and wished for the millionth time that Alteans had more comfortable and soft clothing, instead of just settling for putting on the same shirt and jacket every day. A nice big sweater would be so good for him. 

Instead of going out and risking interaction with his team members, he huddled under his blankets on the bed, making himself into a cocoon of warmth and comfort. 

He must've slept longer than he'd meant to, because by the time he blearily opened his eyes, he wasn't even aware of when he'd drifted off. Shooting up from the bed in a hot second of unexplained panic, he decided to go see about the meeting once his heart rate went down a bit.

Running to the main deck, he skidded to a halt in front of the door, hoping to enter unnoticed and not bursting in, but unfortunately the doors in the castle open with motion, so it was obvious that he had halted from running. As anxious as he was to not miss an important call, he also didn't want to draw attention to himself. He was just a ball of anxiety.

Luck wasn't on his side though, as Allura's gaze snapped to him. It looks like the call already started, and he was late. If looks could kill...

"Lance, nice of you to finally join us." Keith whispered sarcastically as Lance stepped up to be with the rest of his team. He smiled sheepishly and ducked his head, turning away from Keith to look at the screen and avoid the disappointed looks from the rest of the team. Kolivan kept talking on, ignoring his interruption. Marmorans must have more patience than the average alien.

"-Lotor hasn't announced any grand plans yet but our intel has placed him on three different planets in the past few vargas. He appears to be visiting old contacts..."

Lance began to zone out after that. These calls usually didn't give much new information. Since Zarkon was defeated, the Galra have been quiet, mostly keeping to themselves and ruling their planets as usual. They haven't given up their won territories, but they haven't taken any more. It's all felt very stagnant lately. Between promotional visits to allied planets and simple fixes that voltron wasn't really needed for, Lance felt useless.

Prince Lotor, a new villain who was sure to add some excitement to voltron's lives, hasn't done anything exciting at all recently. Besides the occasional teasing and general showing off to them, he hasn't done anything particularly villainous. Sometime Lance questioned if he was even a villain at all, and not just an annoying royal mosquito.

"No news on Haggar?"

Lance snapped back to the present at Shiro's concerned voice. He glances over to their fearless leader to see his arms crossed over his chest, acting calm and collected. But Lance could see his fingers digging into his arm.

"Apologies Black Paladin, she seems to have disappeared along with Zarkon's body. No Galran Officers have seen the witch since the last battle." Shiro nodded, a frown taking over his face. Allura put a gentle hand on his shoulder and Keith inched closer to his brother. Wow, Lance wishes he had people that cared about him like that.

_Too bad you don't. And you never will._

He grit his teeth as the call came to an end. It'd been only around ten minutes, he hadn't even said a word, but Lance wanted nothing more than to leave. A deep ache in his stomach called for him to disappear and hide. He just needed to curl up into a ball for a few hours. 

Allura only kept them for a moment to remind everyone about the team bonding before she finally, mercifully, sent them away for a short break. Lance wasted no time in slinking out of the room, flinching as he brushed Hunk on the way out. Everything felt more prevalent, his body hyper focused on all his senses. His clothes felt heavier, his breathing sounded louder, there was too much to see, too many colors and lights and sounds. 

He closed his eyes and ran the rest of the way to his room, only squinting his eyes open to make sure he didn't bump into anything else. He had a feeling that a crash into a wall would _not_ be good for him at the moment. Returning to his room he slammed the door shut and curled up into a ball right there on the floor. He couldn't handle the linens of his bed, but he needed to be lower. He was too tall when he stood up, too high up everything was too far away. 

Lance wasn't sure if he was hyperventilating, he wasn't even sure if he was having a panic attack, all he knew was that suddenly his heart was beating faster, and everything around him just became-

 _Too much_.


End file.
